Le Petit Grinch
by madame.alexandra
Summary: Someone is stealing things off the Gibbs' family Christmas tree. But why? And who! Benjamin Universe. Established Gibbs.


_a/n: merry christmas eve! flynn gave me this idea. and i love the grinch! _

* * *

_December 2004_

* * *

She shook her head, still laughing as he parked the car in his driveway and killed the engine, coming around to open her car door for her. He extended one arm gallantly, and held out his hand.

"I still don't know which is more shocking," she murmured, placing her hand in his and getting out, "that you voluntarily took me to dinner, or that you voluntarily asked DiNozzo to babysit."

"S'not like he's got anything better to do," Gibbs snorted, slamming the car door.

He shoved his keys into his pocket, jingling them absently, and leaning against the car for a moment. He smiled at her, and she rubbed her hands up and down her shoulders.

"You never told me what the occasion was," she reminded him.

"It's Christmas," he said, and then noting the look on her face, shrugged, "_ish_."

"Jethro," she said placidly. "Since when does Christmas put you in a socializing spirit?"

"Hey, I didn't socialize with anyone but you," he pointed out. "Unless you considerin' talkin' to the waiter socializin'."

She laughed again.

"You put on a tie!"

He shrugged, and tilted his head.

"Jen, we haven't really been alone much since Whit was born."

"We're alone at work."

"Jen."

"We're alone in bed at night."

"Yeah, either gettin every bit of sleep we can or kickin' each other to get the baby," he retorted.

"So you took me out to dinner … where tons of people surround us?"

He shrugged again.

"Figured you'd fall asleep if I just packed off the kids to Abby for a coupla hours," he teased.

She reached out and slapped his chest. He caught her hand and kissed her fingers, his eyes roaming up her arm and over her nice outfit. She caught sight of his gaze, and her eyes widened. She pinched his thumb, and then put a hand on her hip.

"You took me out because you wanted me to get dressed up!" she accused.

He grinned at her, and shrugged _again_. It was basically true – he knew it was hard these past few months, with them both working full time jobs, and that addition of a newborn to their already rambunctious Benjamin, and while he liked Jenny no matter how she looked, he'd been missing seeing her dressed to the nines, and he'd selfishly wanted to take her out to dinner instead of staying in and relaxing because he wanted to see her in something other than a wrinkled t-shirt.

"Can you blame me?" he asked.

She stepped forward and reached up to touch his neck, her thumbs resting near his ears. She smiled and rolled her eyes, rising on her toes to kiss him lightly.

"You could have just asked," she murmured.

"Yeah, that would have gone over well," he protested quietly. "Huh-uh. Had to make you think it was your idea."

He pressed his lips against hers, and didn't ease up on the kiss until she shivered in a gust of cold wind and pulled away, inclining her head towards the house. She pointed and winced a little.

"If we can stay up late enough for Whitney to wake up for her midnight snack, maybe you can light my fire?" she suggested.

He smirked, and gestured for her to lead the way. He placed a well-aimed smack on her ass as she headed up the drive and she bit her lip, rolling her eyes at him. Keys in hand – because Jenny always, always locked this door, now that she lived here with here with their children – she moved just enough so that the automatic porch light would come on, and she let them inside the house.

Gibbs stomped slush off his boots, shaking the remnants of the past week's snow onto the welcome mat.

DiNozzo rose up off the couch as Jenny was taking her coat off and yawned, clearing his throat.

Gibbs glared at him.

"The point of babysittin' is stayin' awake," he growled.

"I was awake," DiNozzo protested, pointing at the television. "I'm watchin' one of those old cartoons," he defended.

Jenny cut in before Gibbs could be any more aggressive towards DiNozzo than he need be.

"How'd everything go?"

"Fine," DiNozzo said, sliding his shoes on. "Whitney only woke up once and Ben fed her."

"He did?" Jenny asked.

"Well I got her out of her crib thing," DiNozzo muttered. "But he said I was doin' it wrong, so – "

"Were you?" demanded Gibbs loudly.

"Jethro, you asked him to do this for us – get off his back," Jenny reprimanded lightly, while DiNozzo stood, and gloated silently at being defended by the Boss's wife.

Emboldened by Jenny's defense, DiNozzo smirked.

"What were you two doin' in the driveway?" he asked. "Didn't come in for five minutes after the headlights turned off; I thought I was gonna have to flash the porch light."

"Get out," Gibbs ordered with a glare.

Jenny laughed, and saw DiNozzo to the door. She thanked him – she'd see him at work Monday, anyway – and as he was leaving, she caught his arm.

"Was Ben well-behaved?" she asked. "It's kind of hard to keep him occupied for long periods of time, if he thinks he can get away with stuff because Mommy and Daddy aren't there – "

"He was fine," DiNozzo confirmed. "We watched _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_."

Jenny looked wary.

"Isn't that scary?" she asked.

DiNozzo looked at her like she was insane, and Gibbs snorted loudly. For once, he shared a look of camaraderie with DiNozzo.

"Asks the woman who lets 'im watch _The Wizard of Oz_," Gibbs said sarcastically.

It was Jenny's turn to look skeptical.

"What's wrong with – "

"Flying monkeys," Gibbs and DiNozzo interrupted in unison.

"Besides," Tony continued, "The Grinch was his favorite character."

Jenny rolled her eyes.

"Good_night_, Tony," she said pointedly, waving him out the door.

She shut and locked it behind him, and then turned around, wandering over to the couch and collapsing. The fire Gibbs had left for DiNozzo and the kids was smoldering in embers, and she smiled, glad of the warmth.

Gibbs went into the kitchen, and then came out with two glasses half full of wine, and handed her one, poking at the fire a little. She spared a moment for looking at the Christmas tree – it looked like some of the ornaments were missing – and then she turned her head.

"Why am I not surprise that your son loves the Grinch – the character, not the movie?"

Gibbs shrugged, taking a drink of his wine. He put aside the fire poker and looked down at her.

"You sayin' I'm a Grinch?"

"I didn't _not_ say it."

"Thought I was a Scrooge," he retorted, sitting down next to her and giving her a haughty look.

She shrugged.

"You're something," she murmured, and leaned over to cuddle up to him. She looked back at the tree, sighing contently, and shifted her head on his shoulder. "Did you take down the string of garland at the bottom of the tree?"

He glanced over and shook his head, grunting without concern. He didn't think the tree looked any different. Instead, he focused on reminding her that she'd all but promised they could have some nice, well-deserved adult alone time …

* * *

The morning of Christmas Eve was hectic – both Jenny and Gibbs had to work in order for the team to have Christmas day off, which meant Noemi had the kids, and Jenny was trying to get them to Noemi in good moods.

Whitney, however, was not cooperating; she was screaming her head off as Jenny simply tried to get socks on her feet.

Focusing on not screaming right back, the redhead set her jaw and was as gently as possible, trying to hold down the baby girl's flailing feet without hurting her.

Ben, full of energy as usual – was not helping.

"Mommy, my shoes!"

"Benjamin, I asked you to go get Daddy to tie your shoes."

"Mommy, YOU TIE MY SHOES!" he shouted at the top of his longs.

Benjamin still hadn't entirely gotten used to the massive amounts of attention Whitney often got from both of his parents. He generally decided he only wanted one parent to do something for him when that specific parent was busy with his sister.

She ignored him, sliding a tiny sock on Whitney's other foot. She picked up the screaming four-month-old, immune to the noise and shot a stern look down at her son.

"Manners, Benjamin," she said curtly, and pointed at the door. "Daddy will tie your shoes, or you will earn to tie them yourself."

Benjamin glared at her, and picked up his shoes, darting out of the room and careening down the hall. She assumed he found his father, and she carried Whitney after him.

"Did you get the car seat – " she started, but stopped; Whitney's seat was perched on the coffee table where she'd asked for it to be.

She sat down on the couch and took a moment to try and soothe the baby, stroking her back and rocking her a moment. She sensed Whitney was upset because she was starting to teethe, and though that milestone was early, it wasn't uncommon.

It seemed with her babies, a washcloth dipped in eggnog was going to be the Christmas Eve tradition.

She turned Whitney towards the Christmas tree and supported her in a sitting position, trying to distract her.

"Look at all the pretty lights, Witty," she said softly, bouncing her knees. "Red, and blue – and that sparkly silver garl…and…" Jenny trailed off, and frowned.

Gibbs came up the stairs at that moment on the heels of Benjamin, who now securely had his shoes on.

"Get your backpack for me, son," Gibbs ordered, and Benjamin scampered off.

Gibbs strolled over towards the couch and reached out.

"Jethro," Jenny said, her brow furrowed as she handed the baby over. "There are ornaments missing."

Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"You keep sayin' that, Jen – "

"I'm not going crazy," she hissed, pointing, "I know I put a plush Snoopy one on the bottom, because Whitney likes to stare at it."

Gibbs looked at where she was pointing, and shrugged. He didn't really remember – he and Ben had picked out the tree, and he'd strung lights, but Jenny had decorated it while he was at work and the kids were in bed; she hadn't wanted them around while she threaded the ornaments with the hooks.

She kept insisting the tree was getting emptier, but he didn't really know what she was talking about.

"Jethro, you really can't tell that the whole bottom of the tree is lighter on ornaments?"

He just stared at her blankly, and shrugged.

She rolled her eyes and leaned forward, adjusting the baby car seat to her liking iand shaking her head.

"Observant enough to be a major crimes leader," she muttered to herself, "can't tell when his damn Christmas tree is falling apart."

"Jen, I can hear you."

"Good."

Her hand hit something as she tightened a strap, and she grabbed it. She sat back and frowned.

It was plush snoopy.

She stared at it a moment, and then held it up, glaring at Gibbs.

"How do you explain this?"

"You sure you put that on the tree, Jen?" Gibbs retorted smugly.

"I am not going crazy!"

Gibbs looked at the baby he held against his shoulder, and gave her a mildly patronizing look.

"Then what," he began dryly, "you think _Witty's_ stealing your ornaments?"

Jenny opened her mouth, and then closed it. No, obviously she didn't think that.

She was about to just let it go for the time being, and then Benjamin came darting back into the room with a smug look on his face.

"Is Witty crying because she's too little for presents from Santa?" he asked loudly, as if he thought his sister would understand him.

Gibbs glared at him, and Jenny shot him a narrow look.

"Ben," she said seriously. "Are you taking things off the Christmas tree?"

Benjamin blinked at her, and grinned. He shook his head.

"No, Mommy," he said, as if it were obvious. "It's the Grinch."

Jenny turned to Gibbs, and narrowed her eyes.

"I'm going to _kill_ DiNozzo."

* * *

She didn't actually think it was Tony DiNozzo's fault that her son had turned into a Christmas monster – in fact, work was so hectic she didn't have time to bring it up – but by the time she and Gibbs got the kids from Noemi, put them to bed, and finally got into the master bedroom, her suspicion that Ben was executing a covert operation involving Christmas was confirmed by the fact that on a day he had been with Noemi and not in the house, nothing was missing.

"Jen, that doesn't make sense," Gibbs mumbled into the pillows, groaning in annoyance as she brought it up again.

"It doesn't make sense to me either, Jethro, but – you know, putting Snoopy in with Whitney is one thing, what if he'd done that with a smaller ornament?" Jenny shook her head, brushing knots out of her hair. "She could have choked."

"You think Ben is trying to kill Whitney?"

"No," Jenny said firmly, rolling her eyes. "I don't know what he's doing, I – " she broke off, and put her brush down, sitting up straighter in bed. "What was that?"

Gibbs lifted his head sharply, tilting his hear towards the door – he'd heard it too; a considerable thud in the living room.

It was after midnight – and as adults, they both knew it wasn't Santa – particularly considering _Santa_ had already put the presents under the tree, and none of them should be _thumping_.

Jenny got up and opened the bedside drawer. She put her hand on a pistol, and then hesitated.

Gibbs watched her – one of the many good things about a wife who was also a federal agent was that she never poked and pinched him awake and ordered him to go investigate noises: she just got up and did it herself.

"You think it's Ben?" she asked.

"It sure as hell ain't Whitney," Gibbs said dryly.

Gibbs sat up fully. He nodded.

"Yeah, he might've pretended to be asleep, might be tryin' to catch Santa."

"Is he old enough to be suspicious?"

"Nah, but he's old enough to want to meet 'im."

Jenny nodded. She held up her hand to indicate he should wait, left the gun in the drawer – and without its bullets; it never had bullets in it unless she actually heard a threat – and she went down the hall.

Benjamin's bedroom door was open, but there was a string of garland at the top of the stairs – so she followed that down, and watched a little shadow moving in the dark for a moment before she cleared her throat and flipped on a light.

There, amidst the presents she and Mr. Claus had arranged haphazardly under the tree, was her four-year-old son, sneakily placing ornaments back on the bottom branches.

"Benjamin Shepard Gibbs," she sighed, as he stared at her with wide, busted eyes. "What on _earth_ are you doing?"

He dropped the decorations in his hands and gulped, still staring at her. She glanced over at the table where cookies and milk were – of course, Benjamin had been into the remnants she and Gibbs had left when they obediently pretended to eat them.

"I'm saving Christmas, Mommy!" Benjamin cried in a loud whisper.

Jenny crossed the living room and picked him up, shooting a wary look at all the ornaments on the floor – all of her missing ornaments, in the hands of her oldest this whole time. She shook her head, marching up the stairs with him – he was heavy, but she didn't want to bother with making him walk.

"Ben," she said carefully, "it's not saving Christmas if you're the one who took everything in the first place."

She took him straight into the master bedroom, and placed him on the bed next to Gibbs.

"Caught the little Grinch red-handed," she announced.

Gibbs gave Ben a look, and arched an eyebrow.

"What're you doin', bud?" he asked seriously.

Jenny folded her arms and watched, resisting the urge to yawn – she had wanted to get some sleep in before the baby woke her up at five, and Benjamin kept her up for Christmas morning fun.

Benjamin looked between them, and grinned.

"Saving Christmas, like the Grinch!" he said loudly. He puckered his face up and tried to imitate the green monster man.

"Benjamin –" Jenny started.

"Think you got it a little backwards, Ben," Gibbs said calmly.

"Nuh-uh," Benjamin protested. "He saved Christmas! He was the HERO," Benjamin said dramatically. "He made them think it was _allllllll_ gone and then _POOF_! it was back!"

Jenny sat down on the bed with them.

"_Cindy Lou-Who_ saved Christmas," she said gently. "Ben, the Grinch was trying to ruin it."

"But I saw it!" Ben whined. "He bringed it all back! He was being tricksy, like a funny joke, like Tony plays on McGee!"

Gibbs rubbed his jaw, clearly trying not to grin. Jenny stared at Ben, narrowing her eyes. She looked up at Gibbs.

"He didn't _get_ the movie," she whispered in disbelief. "What kid – "

"Jen, he's four," Gibbs placated in the same tone, "calm down." Gibbs turned to his son. "Listen, Ben," he said. "Mommy's right; Cindy Lou is the hero."

"But Cindy Lou is a girl!" whined Benjamin. "Girls are yucky. You like girls better."

Gibbs shook his head. Jenny scooted closer and put her hands on his small shoulders, bending down to put her cheek next to his.

"No, we don't," she said softly. "We don't like girls better," she said, "_and_ we don't like Whitney better. It's just that Whitney isn't big like you, yet," she said, "and we have to do everything for her."

"Not because she's a girl, though," Gibbs pointed out. "She's a baby. She'll get more fun."

Benjamin scowled.

"She doesn't play with me – she doesn't do anything!" he said, looking unhappy. "I was gonna make Christmas come back so she'd like me!"

Jenny laughed, finding it adorable, and Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"Son, she doesn't even notice stuff's gone," he said.

Jenny stroked Ben's hair back.

"We keep telling you, she will be big enough to play with before you know it," she reiterated. "Time just goes by faster for grownups."

Benjamin folded his arms and pouted a little.

"But Cindy Lou didn't bring the stuff back!" he fought stubbornly.

Jenny touched his chin, and tilted his head up. She met his eyes.

"Benjamin," she said, "the story is to teach you that if you treat people with kindness, it often helps everyone," she explained. "The Grinch thought Christmas was all about presents and feasts, but when he took all the gifts he realized it was about family and good will. And then Cindy Lou invited him to stay – and maybe no one had ever thought to do that."

Benjamin blinked at her, and she arched her brows.

"You're not supposed to be stingy or trisky on Christmas," she said concisely. "You're supposed to be generous and forgiving."

Benjamin blinked at her some more, and she glanced at Gibbs. He shrugged – sounded good to him. He knew Jen wasn't going to feed Benjamin anything religious, which is probably where he'd have generically gone, due to his own upbringing.

Benjamin sighed and shook his head, turning more towards his mother.

"You don't wanna be the Grinch?" he asked.

She nodded, and touched his nose.

"No," she agreed. "Not for most of the story, at least," she added. "And I want you to know that if you cause something purposely so you can fix it, you are not a hero. There is a different word for that."

'What's it?" he asked eagerly.

"Tell you when you're older," Gibbs said.

Jenny nodded, and smirked. She kissed Benjamin on the forehead.

"Why don't I tuck you back in, read you a short Christmas story, and tomorrow Whitney and I help you put the ornaments back where they belong?"

Benjamin thought about it, and then nodded.

"Tony said Daddy is a Grinch," he piped up, giving Gibbs a curious look.

"He used to be," Jenny said sincerely. She wrinkled her nose, and touched it to Benjamin's. "But then we had you."

She smacked his bottom lightly and pointed.

"Give him a kiss goodnight so he stays un-Grinchy, and let's go."

Benjamin obeyed, and as Gibbs hugged him and swung him off the bed, he gave them a wry but sweet look.

"But since I'm up – Santa already came – can we – "

"No," Jenny and Gibbs said together, and Benjamin frowned, defeated.

Jenny gave him a mock stern look.

"Hey, your antics might have already gotten you coal in the stocking," she began.

Benjamin gasped, and straightened up, looking remorseful. Jenny got up and beckoned to him, intent on keeping true to her word. Gibbs lay back in bed, amused by the whole situation – as they left, he heard Ben ask –

"But can I be the Grinch on Halloween?"

"Halloween is a better time to be the Grinch, yes."

"Can Witty be Cindy Lou?"

Jenny laughed, her voice fading away.

Gibbs was half asleep when Jenny slid back into bed quietly, and snuggled up to his back. He glanced at the digital clock – they'd have to be up in mere hours, and Ben was going to wake them up with knees in their backs and hands on their faces, eagerly shouting about presents – well, him at least; Whitney would cry Jen away before that.

Jenny pressed her lips to the back of his neck.

"He still says his favorite character is the Grinch," she murmured, resting her forehead against his shoulder blade.

Gibbs rolled over, slipping his arms around her. He grunted in a nonchalant way.

"That's m'boy," he drawled quietly.

Jenny shook her head good-naturedly.

"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"You do think I'm a Grinch," he growled, feigning offense.

She looked up at him.

"I think you were," she said sincerely, her eyes meeting his. She reached up and touched his jaw. "I like to think you heard some singing and changed your mind."

Gibbs glared at her half-heartedly, and rolled his eyes.

"Who're you in this scenario?" he growled flippantly. "Max?"

She blinked, and her mouth fell open.

"The – dog? Did you just call me – "

"Max was loyal even when the Grinch was – "

"Oh don't even try, Jethro!" she laughed, rolling on top of him and shoving her knuckles into his chest, playfully glaring at him. "How dare you – "

He laughed, and she leaned down and narrowed his eyes.

"There's still time for me to put coal in your stocking!"

But it was an empty threat – because this was a merry Christmas, and she had no intention of being a holiday curmudgeon – not when for the past several years, Christmases had been good and warm instead of troubled or filled with loss; she'd had her fill of Grinches, even if Ben _had_ just been a little one.

* * *

_December 2004_

* * *

_-alexandra_

_story #233_


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